


Christmas With Crowley: A Surprise Guest

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Christmas With Crowley [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Crowley (Supernatural), Angst, Loss, M/M, Reader-Insert, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 13:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20310331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: Crowley finally detoxes, remembering Y/n, but someone is determined to play their games.





	Christmas With Crowley: A Surprise Guest

** _24th December 2016_ **

“LET ME OUT! Squirrel! Moose!”

Crowley fought against the cuffs and chains, trying desperately to use his power to crack the devil’s trap painted below him.

But he was too weak right now.

The human blood was washing out of his system, and now, instead of the sadness and loss, all he felt was rage.

Rage at the Winchesters for trapping him in here. 

Rage at Amara for killing y/n.

Rage at Dean for being a weak bastard, and giving into a damn teenager. 

But most of all, the rage he felt for himself, was the strongest.

Why did he have to drag y/n into his life? 

If he just left him alone, fought the pull and stayed away, y/n would be alive right now.

If he hadn’t been weak in the first place, and resisted the human blood, he would’ve been stronger, and wouldn’t have given into his feelings.

But for some reason, everything linked back to the damn Winchesters. 

They were the ones who injected him with the blood. All for themselves.

They were the ones who had to start every single damn event. All to save each other.

They should’ve died along with Mary in the fire.

That way, the only problem would’ve been John, who was none the wiser on things like angels and Lucifer, or even closing the gates of Hell.

They should’ve died. 

Now, he needed them to die.

He pulled his hands, trying to use his strength to break the chains, but nothing happened.

He focused on the bookshelves in front of him, hoping he could move one and attract one of the morons in, maybe hurt them somehow.

But once again-nothing.

He sat there, not sure for how long, his body flushing out the human blood, calming down a little.

The door to the dungeon opened, the bookshelf being pushed aside.

Crowley looked up, Chelsea standing in front of him, playing with her fingers.

“Are you-are you feeling better?”

Crowley looked down at the ground, ashamed of what he did, and nodded.

“Ok. Well, they asked me to stay. So-I’ll be around”.

He nodded again, Chelsea turning and walking away.

“Wait”.

She stopped, waiting for him to continue.

“I-I’m sorry. For hurting you. For-for scaring you. I never should’ve let myself lose it like that”.

She turned and looked at him, a small smile on her face.

“I get it. You miss him. Hell, I miss him. Everyday. He used to make out like he hated Christmas time. But I swear, he secretly loved it”, she chuckled, her eyes watering at the thought of y/n.

Crowley said nothing, just thinking about y/n, and the good times they had. 

He so desperately wished he could get y/n back.

But how could he? 

His soul was destroyed. 

There was no coming back from that.

They sat there, speaking about y/n for a while, before settling and sitting in comfortable silence, Chelsea perching herself on the table, swinging her legs.

“Hey. You guys ok?”

Sam entered the room, staring at Chelsea, making sure Crowley hadn’t done anything to her.

She sent him a smile, Sam walking over and stopping in front of them.

“You feeling ok now?”

Crowley scowled at him, but nodded, hoping he could be let out of the damn chains.

Sam kneeled in front of him, unlocking the chains, and scratching at the devil’s trap.

“Finally”.

Crowley stretched his legs, snapping his fingers, cleaning his body of the sweat, his suit reappearing on his body.

He strolled past Sam, Chelsea walking along with him.

“What time is it?”

Sam checked his watch.

“Christmas Eve is almost over, apparently”.

“So you kept me locked up for over a day? Bloody hell”.

“It’s not like you haven’t been living for centuries, is it?” Sam replied sarcastically.

Crowley ignored him, wanting to leave soon.

“So, you staying?” Chelsea asked, hoping she’d have someone she knew with her.

“I don’t think that’s so wise, love. I might be better now. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to murder that moron, Squirrel. Or Moose over here”.

Chelsea nodded, knowing why he was so angry.

Crowley suddenly came to a stop, sniffing the air.

“Moose. Is Mother Winchester baking?”

Sam shook his head, having just seen Dean and Mary in the library.

“What is it?”

Chelsea sniffed herself, knowing why Crowley was getting worked up right now.

He disappeared from in front of them, Chelsea and Sam running to the kitchen, to see Crowley just stood there, staring at the Christmas cookies in front of him.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

Crowley turned around, slamming Sam into the wall.

“Crowley! What the fuck?”

“You did this, didn’t you? Baking the same cookies y/n used to”.

Chelsea grabbed his arm, trying to get him to lower it, but he just shook her off.

“I told you, we didn’t do anything”, Sam gritted out, straining against Crowley’s power.

Dean and Mary ran into the kitchen, hearing the commotion.

“Well, then, who did? Who keeps making y/n’s things appear? Who keeps making his favourite shows come on? Who keeps reminding me of him?” he bellowed, his face red and heated.

Silence took over them when they heard faint music, getting louder by the second.

The radio in the kitchen began playing Christina Aguilera’s ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’.

“That’s y/n’s favourite Christmas song”, Chelsea whispered, everyone else looking around, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Hey, boys. Mommy Winchester. Crowley. And a pretty lady I haven’t met yet”.

All their heads snapped to the doorway, a certain golden eyed angel smiling at them.

“Gabriel?”


End file.
